


The Lost Child

by Hapkido9061



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Amnesia, Chenmin, Dreams, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Jongdae, Fairy Luhan, Fairy Minseok, Fairy Queen Tao, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Royalty, Some angst, XiuChen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hapkido9061/pseuds/Hapkido9061
Summary: Chen doesn't belong.Not here, at least. The days pass by in a blur of documents and dreams of a boy with silver hair. It isn't until the masks of bone and ash from his dreams start appearing in real life and someone calling Chen a faerie prince does he start to think that maybe he isn't as crazy as he initially thought.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28
Collections: ExOnce Upon A Time: Round II





	The Lost Child

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time participating in this fest and it was quite the challenge! My normal writing genres are nowhere near this high level of fantasy so I hope it turned out well
> 
> Also, many many thanks to my lovely beta who put up with me through this fest and was always ready with a cheering comment <3

_He fights his way out of the hawthorn tree. Its branches hold tight to his skin marred with fading Lichtenburg scars. With the strength sapped from his bones, he can’t retreat back into the wood._

_His body falls onto the muddy forest floor._

. . .

Morning comes much too soon.

Chen sits up in bed and smacks his lips together, trying to get the bitter taste of sleep from his mouth. Dreams of the night flee from his memory, leaving nothing but faint traces of something resembling fear. He checks his phone that is charging on his nightstand. The alarm is set to go off within five minutes. Chen rubs his face and decides there’s no point in trying to fall back asleep at this point. With one last yawn, he stumbles off of the bed to get to the master bathroom.

His routine is dull and Chen finds himself a little more lost with every passing day.

Chen hops in the shower before the water warms up all the way. The shock of cold wakes up his mind from the dregs of sleep that still linger. Chen lets his thoughts wander until the only thing grounding him to reality is the constant sound of water hitting the ceramic tiles. How he hates the feel of it against his skin.

He finishes getting ready without any excitement in his step. His breakfast consists of a glass of water and an apple. Chen wishes it is more and yet finds he doesn’t have the want to stomach anything else. Any food that he puts in his mouth will cause nausea at this point. After getting dressed in a white button down and slacks, Chen throws a smart blazer over his shoulders. His body feels constricted in the clothes. He slips his phone into his pocket before grabbing his keys to his ride.

The motorbike is in the same position locked in the garage that Chen left it the night before. Not that anyone would steal the old thing- it is vintage to a collector’s eye but trash to a commoner’s. He taps the button for the garage door to open. Chen grabs the helmet hanging from the handlebar to slip over his hair as he waits for the door to be fully raised. Once outside, he hits the button a second time and waits for it to start closing before taking off for work.

Wind threatens to knock him off as he weaves in and out of the mess of cars. Chen keeps himself steady as he continues the commute to work. His eyes wander to the skyscrapers towering over his small form and Chen wishes they weren’t. He only realizes that he should pay more attention to his driving when he almost hits a man in the crosswalk.

The man’s blond hair is swept back from his face but mussed from the near accident. His eyes stare down into Chen’s own before he breaks his gaze. Chen doesn’t look to see his own light remain green, or the ‘do not walk’ symbol still flashing on the man’s side. All Chen does is wonder why that hair isn’t a silvery white.

The thought leaves the moment it pops into his head. Chen is left to stare out at the man walking with his head held high as if nothing just happened.

Chen pulls into a parking spot between two luxury cars in front of his office building. His antique motorbike stands out against the polished chrome and unscratched black. Chen prides himself in not falling trap to the bitterness of vanity that many of his higher coworkers had developed.

No one speaks any greetings to him as he walks in the front door. Even with his respectable position, people are much too busy with their own lives to take notice of anyone but themselves. Chen sneaks into an open elevator and closes it before others can join him. Call him selfish, but he feels the need to avoid everyone. And they want to avoid him. It’s nothing personal.

His desk is just as he left it before leaving. Not a single paper is out of place, minus the new stack of forms needing his signature. The sun from the window behind him warms his back in a pleasant sort of way. Chen takes a moment while sitting to breathe, feel the warmth on his skin, watch the other employees below him frantically type away at their computers. The rush of it all is the worst thing about his job.

Chen’s day drags on without stop. He takes a moment in between writing memos to himself to cross off the day on his calendar. It’s a Monday, the first one of the month. Chen smiles to himself at the neat black line diving the day’s square in half.

By the time he shuts down his computer for the night, the others from the office are gone. The secretary is probably out with her daughter having dinner, the two new interns complaining about the workload, the second-in-charge driving his new car home. Chen looks around his desk to make sure he hasn’t left anything before tugging his coat off the chair. He slips it on and steps out of the room, shutting the lights off before locking the door.

It’s already dusk when Chen hops onto his motorbike. He thanks his luck that he doesn’t almost hit someone again on the way home. When he opens the door and shucks his work outfit in favor of pajamas, Chen realizes he hasn’t spoken to a single person today.

. . .

_Someone is speaking. By Chen’s side are the people he’s loved and the people he’s trusted. A cloth banner waves in the wind at the front of the ground. Someone’s hand grips his shoulder. It’s large and warm. Familiar._

_His father’s hand._

_The banner is dripping in blood as red as cherry wine- the color soaking the fabric until it reaches the ends of the pure cloth and stains the sands below. Nothing remains but the burning red of his own blood._

_A man is up there. His mottled crown stretches towards the heavens and his robes trail down to hell. Chen opens his mouth to say something when the man raises his fist. The voices grow into a cacophony around him._

_He wonders what is happening. And why is father is shouting. And why the people- all the people are running and yelling and angry and fighting and leaving._

_Another hand pulls Chen away from the chaos._

. . .

Morning comes much too soon.

Chen rolls over when the sunlight hits his face. When he peeks at his phone, he sees that the alarm is set to go off within seven minutes. He wants to go back to sleep, this morning is as good as any, but he doesn’t. Chen finds himself wondering how his father has been, that they haven’t spoken to each other lately. And the fact that he can’t remember who his father is.

His routine dull and Chen finds himself a little more lost with every passing day.

He doesn’t belong here.

Chen’s shower is colder than normal, easing the sleep from his mind. His thoughts wander as the water beats his skin. How he hates the feel of it.

He finishes getting ready without excitement in his step, eating only an apple with some water for breakfast. Chen slips a navy-blue jacket on over his worn work clothes. His phone and keys are still clutched in hand when he steps out of the house.

The motorbike is sitting in the same place, and Chen realizes he forget to close the garage door. No one would even want to steal it though- rusty and old but loved by Chen all the same. Once outside, Chen shoots to the road to get the day over with.

Chen weaves in and out of the mess of cars. The clouds above threaten rain. Chen keeps reassuring himself they won’t as he continues the commute to work. This is a terrible day to have forgotten his rain jacket. While thinking about the rain, Chen’s eyes glaze over the people waiting to cross the road.

One man has a baby in his arms. Another two suitcases. Two girls are laughing about a joke, and a family is out for early breakfast. Chen’s eyes skip over all of them. The one with two dogs on leashes, the one with blond hair and a long worn-out jacket, the one with a flowing blue dress and an umbrella.

Chen finds a place to park and resists the urge to kick his coworkers’ cars. They don’t care about others or how to properly park. Squished between the six figure cars, Chen wants to scream.

No one speaks any greetings to him as he walks in the front door.

Everyone else is too busy with their own lives to take notice of anyone but themselves. Chen rides the elevator filled with people. Someone sneezes and Chen wrinkles his nose.

Chen’s the first one into the office and flicks the lights on. His desk is just as he left it before leaving. When he sits down, there isn’t the comfort of the sun on his back, just the cold sound of a few raindrops pattering on the glass.

The day drags on. He crosses off the day on his calendar. It’s a Tuesday, sometime in August.

He’s not the first one to leave from the office, but he isn’t the last today either. Chen checks that nothing is out in the open or forgotten before leaving.

The moon is just starting to shine above the horizon by the time Chen comes home.

. . .

_When Chen opens his eyes, he sees nothing. Nothing but darkness stretching out for miles with no end. Silence echoes in his ears. He rubs at his eyes._

_Stars fade into view, adding their twinkling to the night. The moons are full and lend their light to his pitiful being._

_Chen waits impatiently in the riverbed. He’s not standing- no- he can feel river stones and water soaking into his clothes. The current rushes until a heavy chill is settled in his bones. And yet, he is surrounded by a sense of calm acceptance._

_But that calm is deceptive._

_For another man makes his way closer to where Chen lays against the tree. Closer and closer with each racing pound of a heartbeat until Chen is sure his lungs will die from loss of air. Panic grips the corners of his mind until his vision blurs. His body sinks._

_He’s drowning._

_Chen hates the water. He hates the feel of something so unnatural slide against his skin. It’s surrounding him, filling his mouth when he opens it to scream. The taste of saltwater is bitter like his tears. The warmth of the sea turns to hellfire on his body._

_He slips too deep before a hand of ice can rescue him._

_. . ._

Morning comes much too soon.

Chen awakes to the new day with a sigh. He drags himself though the same routine no matter how much his body is begging him not to.

He’s lost that spark of himself.

Shower, dressed, breakfast, and grabbing the keys on the counter fill the empty space in Chen’s mind like a mantra.

His motorbike waiting in the garage is low on gas, and Chen reminds himself to stop by on the way home to fill the tank up. The motor rumbles. He slides it out onto the road and onto the highway to work.

At one of the stoplights, Chen watches the people cross in a flurry. But one man stays on the edge, not walking, not even moving. But he’s staring at Chen. He stares back at the stranger, not liking the attention one bit; Chen blinks and refuses to look away first. A car behind him honks multiple times until he turns his attention to the now green light.

Before taking off, Chen spares one last look to where the man stood.

There’s nobody.

Chen chases the weird encounter out of his mind as he parks. The parking lot is empty this morning, and he easily slides into a spot and tugs off his helmet.

No one speaks any greetings to him as he walks in the front door.

Chen goes to a meeting, speaking only when spoken to. His boss berates him for some mistake he made yesterday on record keeping. Chen can feel the headache creeping into his mind and it’s not even lunchtime yet.

Time continues. He crosses off the day on his calendar. It’s a Wednesday. 

The day has bled into the darkened hours of the evening before Chen gets a chance to pull away from his desk. He glances around to see only a lonely intern typing furiously at her desk in order to finish an assignment on time. But there’s not an ounce of pity in his bones when he knows this is the only way she’ll survive in the world. Chen offers her a smile before crawling out of the hellhole of an office.

Rather than going straight home, Chen diverges and heads to the nightclub near his workplace. It’s not too crowded on a Wednesday night and Chen relishes in the relaxed atmosphere. He orders a shot of gin and tonic to sip at. The music thrums in the background; Chen can feel his eyes closing and feet moving to the beat as if he were dancing.

“Hey.”

Chen startles, almost falling out of his stool. When he gains his bearings, Chen finds a young woman no more than 25 at his side. Her honey gold eyes stare at him in worry but Chen waves her off without breaking his gaze.

“I really didn’t mean to scare you. I just… my friends helped me work up the courage to say hi,” she murmurs more to herself than anything. A blush frames her cheeks and Chen finds himself softening at the shy girl. “I’m Laila.”

“Chen.”

She brightens visibly once Chen offers up his name and a sincere smile. As Laila waves the bartender to make her a fruity drink, Chen finds himself accepting her company.

It’s been a while since he’s had someone to be with, after all.

. . .

_Chen pauses with his hand outstretched. His fingertips tingle the more he holds it up in the air. But he pulls his arm back before the one he wants to see can arrive. The doorway creaks as it opens. Chen lowers the metal visor until nothing but the whites of his eyes can be seen. His entire body is covered in the heavy knight’s armor; yet, he will not take it off._

_Chen doesn’t want to scare him._

_There is only Chen in the silence of the day. Soon, there will be only two of them in the silence._

_The one he has been looking for steps out onto the ground. His feet are light and bound in silk wrappings. A robe of the same silver silk is draped over his shoulders. Where his feet are planted spring forth ice crystals that cool the summer air. A mask of a lotus’s petal covers his entire face to hide his beauty from prying eyes. But Chen doesn’t need to see his face; he already knows him._

_His favorite color._

_(white)_

_His favorite season._

_(winter)_

_The color of his eyes._

_(silver)_

_Chen takes a single step forward._

_His soldiers take a step back._

_Chen remembers he is not alone. He holds his composure amongst his brothers of arms._

_Even while masked, the man descends down from the carriage with a practiced grace. The stars cannot outshine the veil that is the northern lights of the frigid north. And Chen, witnessing him in the flesh, can testify to that fact._

_He sheaths the sword that his hand has been clutching. His soldiers follow suit, putting away their guns and knives and arrows and bows for this is not an enemy._

_The man pinches the edge of his mask and Chen holds his breath._

_He pulls up the edges and Chen can see a flash of his silver hair._

. . .

Chen can’t remember what he dreamed of when his hand shuts off his alarm in the morning.

When he checks his phone, he sees a few goodnight texts from Laila after their however many-month anniversary the night before. Chen never has been one for dedication to celebrating anniversaries, but it seems Laila is.

As he jumps in the shower, he cranks the heat up and relishes in the warmth. Maybe if he finishes the Choi report by lunch, he could take her out on a lunch date. Laila would enjoy that. Chen wants to make her happy, even if he doesn’t find the same enjoyment in dating. It’s all about her anyways.

Chen skips breakfast this morning, not feeling the normal pangs of hunger in his stomach. He goes to work on his normal route. Aside from the motor not firing right at first on his bike, Chen can’t find anything unusual in his day.

Laila sends her normal texts filled with too many exclamation points and too many emojis. Chen finds himself smiling at some of them, sending her a few back. He checks on the day- a Thursday- before telling Laila they could also go on a date tomorrow night.

When he up the work for the day, Chen finds himself not quite eager to go home, per se, but something akin to that emotion. He knows that Laila will be home, sneaking in with her spare key, and he won’t be stuck in a quite home with not a single other soul. It’s a comforting thought.

Laila greets him when he opens the front door. Her voice is boisterous, filling the space until the corners of the room can hear her.

“What’s for dinner?”

Chen peaks over her shoulder to where the normal food would be cooking. Even though he rarely ate much of anything, Chen appreciated the sentiment.

“I think we should go out tonight!”

“Again?”

Chen tries to keep his voice as a light question. It does almost nothing to mask the exhaustion of his words. She doesn’t notice. When Laila nods and explains that the club they met at is having a couple’s special, Chen’s mind wanders off. He hums when he should in agreement.

“Go get dressed and I’ll meet you at the door. Let’s take your bike tonight, yeah?”

Before he can add anything, Laila saunters into the bathroom to do her makeup. Only then does he even take notice of the clubbing outfit she’s wearing. Chen sighs. There’s no point in trying to fight her at this point.

They arrive to the club in due time. It’s twilight- the sun just having set beneath the city horizon. Chen takes a little longer than he needs to parking his bike and arrange the helmets on the seat just so. Laila takes his hand in hers. For as loud as the music blaring from the walls of the club is, they only pass by one person, leaning against the light post.

Because of the couple’s special, the club is packed with couples eating, dancing, making out already. Chen grimaces and follows Laila closer to where she waved at some friends when they first entered.

His eyes glaze over as Laila engages herself with her friends. They ask him questions from time to time, just trying to get him to respond in more than single word answers. IT works. That, and the alcohol Chen starts to drink down as if it is water.

“Want more?”

“Just a gin and tonic.”

Chen gives a dopey smile to Laila’s friend as she walks off to grab more drinks for the group. When she comes back, Chen drinks it all before pulling Laila up by the arm.

“Let’s dance!”

She laughs at his antics. “You’re so energetic tonight! It’s not just the alcohol, right?” Laila teases. Chen shakes his head, leading her further away from the table into the middle of the dance floor. “If you want to dance, then we will.”

Laila takes his hands, throwing them up with hers in the air. Chen locks eyes. Laila’s smile fades a bit at the stare Chen is giving her, but she loses her train of thought when Chen grabs her and spins her around. He watches the mindless look of enjoyment pass over her face.

“Faster. Spin me faster,” she breathes out, giggly from the atmosphere. He obliges.

As they dance, Chen gets closer and closer. Laila’s eyes darken and he leans in close. Even if he would never admit it, he craves this feeling. The feeling of dancing, being the one in control of nothing but the movements of their bodies as one. He leans into the side of her neck, smelling the perfume she spritzed on at home. It’s a revolting smell.

The longer they continue, the more lost in the music Laila gets. Chen watches as her feet stumble over each other. Out of time, out of beat, but she doesn’t take any notice. He deems it an okay time to leave her on her own. It’s not like she would notice his absence anyways.

He orders his nth drink form the bartender. Chen puts the glass to his lips, relishing the cool feel of glass. But a headache is starting to form right at the front his forehead. It’s not enough to be painful yet, but Chen knows that it will be. Just as he stands to pull Laila home, she appears out of breath at his side.

“Dance with me! Spin me again!”

Laila’s laugh fills his already aching mind. She can’t seem to stop moving, trying to persuade Chen to dance with her again. Between him and the end of the bar is a man Chen has seen a few times before at work. A nice guy, nothing awkward or uncomfortable about him. He discreetly leads Laila to him to talk and make friends. The distraction works and Chen wants nothing more than to slip out of the club unnoticed.

So he tries to.

Chen squeezes his way between writhing bodies on the dance floor to get to the exit. The red lights from the club lights are no longer as enticing as they were before. Something stops Chen where he stands. He looks over his shoulder to see what it was. There’s no one there out of the ordinary.

But then he looks further and a masked being is staring back at him.

He startles, blinking back his surprise.

The mask is gone, no longer a part of the crowd. Maybe it was just a part of his drunk imagination. But Chen didn’t feel drunk. The alcohol coursing through his veins faded to nothing but a dull buzz not long ago. Alcohol never left him drunk for long.

Chen shakes his head. He begins to push his way to the exit a second time.

And for a second time, he sees someone with a mask off to the side of his vision.

Someone’s messing with him. That’s Chen’s only explanation. Laila, or her friends, or someone he knows if only slightly. The masks are too creepy to be anything but a Halloween decoration.

The more Chen looks around, the more he sees the masks. Their dull white surfaces remind him of bone. But no bone would be big enough to cover someone’s entire face, right? He tells himself it’s absurd. Ashes streak down in tear tracks from each of the hollow eye. Some squint, some are open. But each of the masks wears a smile.

Something in Chen’s mind tells him he’s seen them before.

And he’s right to be terrified.

Each time Chen blinks, memories of one of those masked beings trying to rip him apart limb from limb haunts his mind. He has no recollection of that ever happening, but the fear and pain is too real for it just to be his imagination.

The masks continue staring at him, getting closer leaving no room for escape if he doesn’t leave now. Chen shoves his way past the other clubgoers with no thought of politeness in his mind until the cool air of the street hits his face. He stares down both sides of the street, wondering if any of the masked creatures are waiting for him out here. There’s nothing but a few electronic billboards blinking, telling that the date is April 30th, that the store was having a closing sale, that a new shipment of shoes just came in.

Chen stumbles in the middle of the street. A car honks before swerving to narrowly avoid hitting Chen with their car. Chen finds his way into an abandoned alleyway as to avoid dying tonight. He leans against the cool bricks of a decrepit building.

He pauses.

Tries to catch his breath.

When Chen opens his eyes again, it’s to the sound of shuffling footsteps coming closer. He finds no one at the entrance of the alley; but he sees the source of the sound towards the dead end. The figure is standing in the shadows of the lamppost and Chen can’t make out his face. Something keeps him from running as the shadow gets closer.

With little warning, the figure steps into the light of the next lamppost and Chen can see a shock of blond hair contrasting with a worn leather jacket. The face is male- but not a blemish or sign of age in sight on the tanned skin. Chen has a fleeting idea that he knows who this man is.

The only thing he can think of is that this man resembles who he almost hit with his motorbike all those months ago. And the man standing in the crowds that always seems to disappear so suddenly. But that would just be ridiculous. A little voice in Chen’s mind tells him it’s not.

The man halts right across from Chen. their eyes lock and Chen feels himself slipping in the golden honey of his eyes. The height he has on Chen makes it feel as if his entire being is looming over Chen. How enchanting his aura, his energy.

“I’ve found you. But you’ve kept me waiting for too long.”

He watches as the man digs around in his coat pockets. His hands shake as if the energy has been sapped from his bones and Chen still doesn’t understand.

“What… have you come to take my soul?” Chen jokes to the figure, trying to ease the tension. It doesn’t do anything but make Chen more uncomfortable.

Chen wants to leave this odd situation but doesn’t. His feet remain rooted in place. The man pulls out a crystalline star- nothing more than a trinket. Chen instinctively holds his hand out and takes it into his own palm. It’s not just cool to the touch, it’s downright freezing.

When he runs it through his fingers, Chen swears he can see the first signs of frost creep onto his skin. He almost drops it, but the man steadies his hand with his own. The tanned fingers wrap over his own.

“This will lead you to him. My queen has been waiting for you.”

Chen tries to call out that this isn’t his pendant- he doesn’t even know where it’s from. But the blond figure ignores him. He turns back to shuffle into the darkness without another word. Chen makes a face at the disappearing back before turning to go home on his own. While stuffs the crystal into his pocket, Chen notices a shadow cross over the small amount of light.

He shrugs it off and stumbles home to his penthouse.

And misses the way the black wings emerges from the figure’s back before crossing over into nothingness.

Chen finds his way home. At the silence that greets him, he’s not totally shocked. Laila probably went home with those friends they met at the bar rather than come back here alone. He can’t say he blames her. Chen tosses his keys (with a mental note to pick up his bike tomorrow morning) onto the table alongside his phone and wallet. The crystal stays with him.

The bed welcomes him with open arms. Not taking the time to even change into more comfortable clothes, Chen collapses onto the blankets covering the bed. His mind wanders to the trinket still with him. He pulls it out of his pocket, examining it in the faint moonlight that creeps in through the window.

It sparkles with a nostalgia that Chen can’t place. If anything, Chen thinks that it’s a piece of a larger necklace or bracelet. The icy crystal would fit perfectly in place at the base of a neck. He has no clue where these thoughts are coming from, but Chen knows he’s correct.

He puts the pendant on his side table before shutting his eyes. Might as well try to get a few hours of sleep, if only to clear his head and calm the racing emotions.

The silence only fuels his thoughts.

. . .

_A message._

_The ruins of a once grand kingdom loom over Chen’s head. It stretches on too wide, too far for him to make any sense of the layout. Perhaps a great flood ravaged this city years ago, or a plague swept through the streets, robbing the citizens of life. Babylon has fallen and Chen is the only one left to witness the remains. A helmet bangs against his ears with every bounce of the horse- she didn’t ride easy against the cobbled stone. But at least he didn’t have to make the journey on foot._

_He is not lost yet. The heavy clouds block out the pitiful sun. Chen worries that if rain falls, his mission is destroyed. Separated from his father and his army, Chen knows death is trailing his every move. He has to find the message._

_The message is important._

_But he has no horse to find it. She died in battle._

_And there are no buildings for protection against the sun blistering his skin._

_All Chen can see when he turns around is sand, such a deep maroon that is takes the color of blood. It fills the vast desert of scorching heat he’s found himself lost in. A handful of men straggle behind him, their own horses long gone to the perils of battle. Chen has tried to keep his soldiers’ morals up, but the rations and water are depleted from weeks of travel._

_“Look!”_

_Chen spins to face where his solder his pointing. A man rides a horse down the hills of sand, never hesitating on the decent. The rider dismounts a safe distance from Chen’s weary men. In his hand, he carries a helmet filled with the water they so desperately crave. He can’t make out the face of the rider._

_A shadow crosses over Chen’s face. He looks up to see the far-off signs of black wings under the sky, waiting for his men to fall. One by one. They surely will fall._

_“All hope is lost.”_

_The rider does not bow to Chen, no matter his ranking nor his legacy. He stands straight and tall without remorse. But he does not look at Chen. The rider looks above him, to another of taller height in his place._

_“It seems your might army shall finally fall. Not by the hand of those you fight and war, not to bloodshed out of hatred, but by your own greed for water.”_

_Chen accepts the helmet of water. He looks back to his men, finding them emancipated; their bodies are cracked and withered by the hellish landscape. He can count the ribs on each of them._

_One of the soldiers speaks up. “I believe your wisdom shall save us all.”_

_Chen finds he no longer is holding the helmet of water, but it is in the hands of the army’s commander. It is not him. “My wisdom shall not overcome our defeat. Without the son, there is no father. And so I cease to exist.”_

_“Your son will return.” When Chen’s eyes find the soldier who wished to speak out, all he sees is silver hair and sharp eyes._

_“You say that and yet even you are losing a battle against time, no matter the love you hold for my son.”_

_The soldier leans in close until only Chen’s father and he can hear their words. Chen strains to listen, the voice of the cat-eyed solider hushed. “No. Jongdae is not as lost as we believe. He will return to us.” The soldier stares straight at Chen. He stills. That name does not often fall from the mouths of others. Words fade to murmurs as Chen feels his conscious slipping._

_But he couldn’t stop himself from wondering._

_Who is Jongdae?_

. . .

Chen jerks up. Did he fall asleep? Or did he just come out of a daydream?

He runs his fingers through his hair, unsure of what _that_ was. A look at the clock tells him he lost time- it’s 3 AM now rather than the 1 AM that he settled down at. The crystal on the nightstand keeps twinkling as if it’s taunting him. Chen snatches it and throws it into his pocket.

Without much thought, Chen wanders out onto the streets of the city in the same clothes as the club. His feet take him to his motorbike. Chen is glad he grabbed his keys at the last minute before coming out as he revs the engine. After pulling on his helmet, Chen drives out onto the empty city highway.

And he keeps driving.

Chen drives until the skyscrapers fade into mountains fade into forests.

His body aches but he can’t stop driving. The forest looms overhead with aspens and oaks and hickories all tangled together. A lone ash tree stands guarding an offshoot drive from the main road. Chen takes it. The pavement turns into hardened dirt and rocks. Chen keeps his balance on the bike weaving through the underbrush growing into the road before arriving at a clearing.

Chen jerks the bike to a stop. He pulls his helmet off and loops the chin strap around the handlebars before dismounting. His forehead scrunches in confusion at the place he’s arrived at.

A mansion looms in front of him.

It’s perfectly symmetrical, the setting moon over the roof contrasting with the rising morning sun at his back. About twenty paces from where the front door, and the only door Chen can see, lies a pool. As Chen approaches, he can see that it is no deeper than his knee. But the water is still even as a breeze blows over head. Chen stares down into his own reflection and the reflection of the morning birds overhead.

His eyes catches something in the still water. Chen reaches down to put a hand in. Before he can, Chen loses his balance stumbles a bit on the edge of the pool. He looks behind him. It felt like someone was pulling him back by the collar of his shirt. But no one else is here in front of the lonely mansion. Chen kneels down and rolls up the sleeves on his shirt.

And again something pulls him back before his hand can touch the water.

Chen catches sight of something hiding behind the tree line this time. He abandons whatever is in the water in exchange for seeing if he can catch this person. There’s no way it was them playing the trick- but Chen had to make sure.

“Fuair mé thú!”

The words are foreign to Chen’s ears. But he understands, understands the meaning someplace deep in his mind. His forehead wrinkles as he realizes it’s the same thing that the man in the city said to him.

Why are so many people looking for him?

“Listen, I don’t know who you are.” Chen tries to explain. All it does is coax the being out of hiding and into the morning’s light. Chen’s heart stops in his chest at just how ethereal the man in front of him is.

His eyes are a multitude colors exploding all at once, and at the same time, they are simply white- void of anything. Chen loses himself in the swirling mess, unconsciously hunting for the blues and silvers to appear. He blinks at Chen’s staring, covering his face with his sleeve of finest silk and embroidered beads. With porcelain skin so pale that Chen can see black and blue veins traversing the skin beneath, the man can’t be of this world.

And the antlers sprouting from his head are another giveaway.

“What are you?”

The man furrows his brow. “ **An dtuigeann tú?”**

**Chen shakes his head. “Seriously, I don’t like this. What are you?”**

**“You’ve lost our tongue to years away.”**

**“What?” Chen is thoroughly lost in this conversation.**

**“It’s been so long,” the man whispers with a frown marring his perfect features. His hand brushes Chen’s cheek. He doesn’t flinch away at the unwanted contact. He can’t. “My brother, let me return you.”**

**“Return me to where? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”**

**Chen finally snaps when the man tries to drag him deeper into the woods. He takes a few steps back until the shadows of the trees no longer cover him. The other tries to follow, but stops at the line of the forest. Chen knows this is the oppurtunity to escape.**

**Yet he doesn’t.**

**The being holds one hand out to Chen, wishing for him to take it. “You’ve been missing for so long, so many years. And we’ve only found you now after following the scent of Unseelie.”**

“…Where will you take me?”

“Home.”

“What?”

“You do not belong here. It is time you return.”

“Why come now?”

He shakes his head and motions for Chen to follow him. Chen does with little hesitation in his step. Something about his words speak the truth and on the truth.

“Our queen has caught word that the Unseelie court has sent fae here to the human realm. He ordered me to go investigate, but there is not much I can do without being injured. Travelling far from the veil is strenuous.”

Chen takes a moment to process those words. “You’re… a faerie?”

“As are you, my brother. Have you lost all of your memories as well as being lost?” Chen stares at him. His face is void of all emotion. “My God, you have.”

“What memories? What do you mean I’m a faerie too?”

The faerie stops in front of a tree missing all of its leaves. It’s bark is peeling, but still the branches stretch wide out to heaven. He places a single hand on the trunk of the tree and a pathway opens up with nothing but darkness encasing the way. Chen takes a step back at the show of magic.

“You may call me Lu,” Lu says with forlorn. “It is not as if you remember my name from days old.” Chen wonders why he seems so uncomfortable at the fact Chen has forgotten his name.

“I’m Chen. It’s the only name I’ve got, so just use that?”

Lu stares into his eyes. Chen watches as dark oranges and yellows swirl into Lu’s eyes before disappearing after a split second. “No it is not,” he muses. “I cannot tell you what your true name is as I do not know, but it is not Chen.”

Chen doesn’t like the sudden change in atmosphere Lu has brought. Apparently, neither does he. Lu wraps Chen’s hand in his own and leads him into the dark pathway. Chen waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before realizing they won’t.

Nothing spreads out for as far as the eye can see.

His breath starts to come in shorter and shorter gasps as the panic sets in. Chen whips around to see if he can escae through the door Lu made before but finds that it’s no longer there. He can’t even see Lu; the only thing grounding him to any reality is Lu’s warm hand in his. When he tries to pull away, Lu’s grip tightens as he barks a short ‘no!’.

Chen shuts his eyes and wishes for their walk to be over. Why there’s no light- no way to see what’s surrounding him is a mystery. And Chen knows Lu won’t be answering many of his questions right now.

They come to halt at a place Chen does not think has any significance. Lu leads him through what Chen believes to be another door; it isn’t until he can hear the sounds of outdoors again does Chen open his eyes. What he finds isn’t Earth anymore.

Above him is a sky of darkness filled with the twinkling of stars- tiny shining holes poked into the sky. He counts the moons overhead and finds five of them setting in the horizon. Their crescent shapes tilt in a way that reminds Chen of a smile, or an eye closing shut after a day.

A wide lake of black stretches out in front of his eyes. The banks that they stand on are filled with dark red sand- much like the flash of a dream Chen remembers having. As he looks down, he sees the maroon of the sand seeping into his shoes like blood and he scrambles to take them off. Lu stares ahead at the far side of the lake where mountains of smoky crystal rise off in the distance. He is already barefoot.

Lu gives him a glance. “Do not touch the water.”

Chen finishes taking off his shoes and throwing them aside, giving a distracted nod in the process. Lu huffs at the answer. Before Chen can retort, the faerie holds his arm out to the still lake. Chen is about to question what he is doing but he sees a lone boat come sailing up in the direction of his hand.

It carries no rider.

When it arrives to the shore, Lu steps on with practiced ease. He holds out a hand to help Chen in so he won’t risk falling into the black water. Chen tries his best, he really does, but his foot still dips into the lake. Lu gasps. His hand shoots out and pulls Chen the rest of the way into the boat.

“Jesus! You don’t have to be so rough,” Chen grumbles as he rubs at the back of his head where it hit the boat. Lu scans the horizon.

“I told you not to touch the water! The one rule I gave you and you broke it.”

Lu’s eyes break down any responses Chen could have given. The boat shakes violently against the ever-moving ripples yet not a single drop of water spills in. Chen holds onto the edges and feels the first inkling of fear rise in his chest. He had no idea what Lu is capable of. Coming abroad a boat with him could have been the last thing he ever does, for all he knows.

The trembling of the boat dwindles out as Lu calms his anger. A sudden piercing call from a horn splits the air. It’s enough to draw both Chen and Lu’s attention away from each other. Not knowing what to expect, Chen turns to Lu to gauge what his reaction is. The faerie doesn’t seem alarmed in the slightest bit. If anything, he seems relieved.

Once they’re closer, Chen spots a single lone solider at the edge of the lake waiting for them. His eyes snap to Chen the moment he spots him. Chen cowers in the bench of the boat. They reach the bloody shore.

“Who do you bring with, Lu?” a soft voice asks. Soft, but Chen can hear the hidden strength underlying the sweet tone. It’s like the sound of breaking glass. It brings a shiver down his back.

“Our prince has returned. Inform Queen Tao and His Majesty Kris at once.”

The soldier doesn’t move. He never breaks his stare from Chen’s face. Before sneering in Chen’s direction, Lu holds up a hand to stop him.

“I promise you, this is the lost prince.”

“He doesn’t bear the mark of Seelie.”

“The human world has many wonders even we cannot understand. Losing a mark is a minor thing,” Lu informs the solider. He finally seems to accept the truth. The solider bows on his knees to Chen.

“My apologies, your majesty. I was not informed of Lu’s mission to the human realm and presumed the worst. Do forgive my baleful actions.”

Chen laughed out loud. This had to be a joke, right? First, he gets dragged by some faerie which he didn’t even think existed not even an hour ago and now soldiers are bowing to him, thinking he’s a prince? He had no clue who this Kris and Tao even were in the first place.

“This is not a laughing matter Chen,” Lu scolds. Chen’s laughter dies out if only so he wouldn’t be yelled at again. Lu speaks again to the solider. “We need access to the castle’s path.”

“Of course.”

He points his sword in the direction of a scorched tree winding up the side of a boulder. Some of the branches hang down with smaller branches all wrapped together to form one larger one. As Chen gets closer, he notices them slithering over the stone like they are alive. And when one turns its head towards to the intruders, Chen realizes they are alive and not just a tree.

They’re snakes.

Chen flinches when the walk straight into the tangle of them. Hisses fill his ears until it’s painful. Lu nudges him to continue on through the path. It fades out to the same familiar black that encased the pathway between the human world and this other faerie world. Chen reaches back and grips onto Lu’s sleeve for guidance.

“Turn right in three steps.”

He follows the command. Chen finds himself at the entrance to what feels like a door. But still, Chen cannot see anything in front of him.

“Open it.”

Chen doesn’t know what’s he’s doing when he reaches for the space in front of him. It’s nothing. That’s what his mind tells him at least. But his hand reaches something tangible when he pushes past his doubt. Lu encourages him to keep twisting the knob until light spills into his vision.

What greets Chen when his vision adjusts are three thrones. Encased in gold, they loom taller than any that Chen can imagine. And that isn’t even the most extravagant thing in the room. The ceiling spirals up to the heavens until not even the top can be made out and below, the floors are made of a dark crystal too opaque to be seen through. Chen spins on his heel to try and catch sight of what is behind him, barely noting the other beings in the room.

“Dún an doras, más é do thoil é.”

Chen freezes in place at the voice. Lu closes the door behind them before bowing to two men reclining in the side thrones. The middle remains empty. All eyes fall onto Chen and he can do nothing but stare back. One of the faeries on the throne rises first, walking towards Chen as he asks something of Lu in the same language he cannot understand.

The second faerie also gets up and approaches at Lu’s answer. Chen feels so small compared to their towering heights, but not threatened. He examines the lines of their faces. So perfect and inviting, like the lines of a setting sun on a fall’s evening. Their robes fall over their shoulders, draping their strong bodies in ambers and maroons and violets that all make Chen feel warm on the inside.

“He doesn’t remember our tongue, my queen and your majesty. Understands… somewhat but cannot speak it. Quite regretful,” Lu speaks up for Chen when he remains silent at a question being asked to him.

“Lu, you are dismissed. Return to your observatory.”

“I am grateful for your kindness.”

Lu bows again and Chen is left to wonder if he should start throwing in some respect as well. When the faerie leaves the room, Chen is left with the two royal faeries- the faerie queen and a king. Chen’s heard legends about such beings- and their rulers- but he never expected their queen to be so masculine with harsh bags under his eyes making him look all the more menacing.

Chen swears he can hear his heartbeat into the silence of the throne room. That is, until the queen breaks it with a racking sob that shakes his whole body. He lunges forward to pull Chen into a crushing hug.

“Are you truly our son? Have you returned to us?”

He turns to stare at the faerie that only placed a hand on Chen’s shoulder after the queen started embraced him. Chen widens his eyes, looking to the corners for some type of escape. There is none. This is the single most embarrassing situation to find himself in.

“I don’t know you.”

Another cry makes its way through the queen as he holds on tighter to Chen. His body is screaming at him to pull away, but the sight is too pitiful to break this faerie’s heart anymore.

“We thought we lost you for good,” the other faerie- the one with thick eyebrows and a drawn face- says in nothing but a whisper. Chen stares down. “So many years ago you slipped from the veil of our home into the pit of humans. And how you have aged similar to the likes of them.” The faerie feels the lines on Chen’s face as if he is covered in hundreds of wrinkles. “We were told you may never return to us.”

“Our son! Please try to draw up your memory.”

Chen fights his way out of the faerie’s grasp. He scrambles back a distance, taking in the sight of his supposed parents with tear streaks staining their unearthly faces. “Who are you? I don’t even know your names!”

The king’s frown grows deeper at the mention of names. “Should you not even remember our faces, we will withhold our names from you. But- you may refer to me as Kris, your father. And he as Tao. Your dad.”

Chen tries the names out on his tongue, if only to be polite. They fill his mouth with a pleasant taste. Tao seems at least a little more coherent over the tragedy of losing his son when he hears the name spoken aloud.

“Do you remember your own name?” A shake of the head. Kris laughs lightly, wiping away a tear that slipped out without Chen noticing. “I suppose it cannot be helped then. We shall take you to Lay. Perhaps he may have a remedy.”

“Who’s Lay?” Chen asks hesitantly. When Tao perks up at the idea and starts for the door, he’s hesitant to follow. He did, after all, only believe himself to have met these two faeries only moments ago. And faeries aren’t to be trusted a great deal.

With a wave of the hand, Kris gets Chen to follow. “He is our best healer. A great asset to the court.”

Chen shrugs. There is nowhere for him to escape to and so he might as well follow where they say to go. Tao takes him by the hand. Kris leads his family down the first hall straight out of the throne room. Even though Chen can’t dredge up any memories of Tao- has no reason at all to find comfort in his presence- he finds himself holding tighter onto the faerie’s hand the further they go.

It isn’t that the halls are dark or it gives a creepy feeling. Rather, they are decorated with crystals of the deepest violets and reds, all swirling together from the moonlight outside. The farther down the hall they go, the lighter the colors Chen can discern. Kris waves him up to his side. Chen lets go of Tao’s hand to stand by the king.

“Inside this door are Lay’s gardens. You have to be quiet as not to wake some of the sleeping plants. They get distressed of woken from nap.”

“They sleep?”

“All things sleep, my son. It is only the matter of if they are still able to wake up that should concern you.”

Kris puts one hand on the door’s handle. Chen inches to touch the obsidian and garnet that laces it, yet he refrains from doing so. But the sight that fills the open space of the door once it opens is worth a thousand years of waiting. All Chen has felt like he’s been doing today is taking in wonderous new sights that only prove he no longer is walking Earth.

As he should.

The new scenery is filled with plants more numerous and exquisite then Chen could believe. Wide vines with sapphires and rubies traversing up the outer edges of the castle’s walls crisscross and shadow the crystalline building. Pink pearl berries crawl up half the height, mixing in with the empty bottoms of those vines. Their roots nestle into the same blood red sand that surrounded the lake outside the castle walls. Even the path laid ahead is of that sand.

Grapes of jade drip down from the upper balconies of the castle until they walk out further. Chen wonders how sweet the wine must be of its delicate fruit. Small buds are popping on this and that with amethyst seeds poking out of the tops of them. There isn’t a single weed in sight. And even if there is, Chen is certain it must be silver or platinum or gold.

One of the last things he takes notice of is that the sky here is a peachy orange that contrasts the vibrant greens of the plants.

Could that much time have passed? That night already faded into midday?

Kris walks him through the right fork of the path cut out of the gardens. Trees start to fill in the sky above and cast their long shadows down upon the trio. Opal nuts and pears of frothy gold hang down to entice passerbys. Chen begins to reach up to nag one before Tao grabs his wrist and holds it down. He offers a slight shake of his head.

Fruits of jewels are the garden’s bounty- not true plants and flowers. The closer Chen looks, the more he can see that. Perhaps that is the reason why Tao didn’t want him to eat any. But the plump coral and peridot melons can’t just be for show. It’s a garden to the likes of none.

The overflowing red flowers filled with a second set of white petals of diamond let off such a sweet scent that Chen trails over off the path. He kneels close to the source of the scent, finding that it is not only that flower but the ones surrounding it in droves. This section of the garden is dominated by black flowers that have emerald dew drops dripping down.

He hears a faint voice in the background. Chen ignores it in favor of reaching for a succulent reddened cherry bunch hanging low. It feels so tender under his fingertips. Right when he is about to pop it into his mouth, Tao yanks him away and into his arms.

“You really are that influenced by our fruits?” His voice sounds disappointed, but Chen can’t be sure. He isn’t quite confident he understands what Tao means. “You truly have lost almost all of your faerie blood if you think these would satisfy your hunger.”

Kris peers back over his shoulder. Chen cocks his head like a cat. “I’m not hungry though?”

“Your fists say otherwise.”

Chen looks down and does find his hands coated in sticky juices from the fruits he plucked. Reds and blues and pinks stain the skin with their bleeding colors. He can’t remember which ones he tried to take, or even when it happened. When he tries putting a hand up to smell the juices, Tao keeps his hand firmly by his side.

“If the open smell of this garden has driven you like a human alone, I don’t think smelling that will be good for your health.”

“I have no clue what you two are on,” Chen finally admits with a shake of his head. Kris clicks his tongue, realizing his mistake in not letting on enough information. Chen waits for him to explain, but he never does. Neither of them do. Chen is left to wonder alone.

They continue down the never-ending path until they reach a clearing free from bushes and trees and vines and fruits that still tempt Chen. Grass grows in the soft grove surrounding the lone cottage in the center. Chen steps onto the grass, giggling lightly at the euphoric feeling of the softness on his bare feet. He drags his toes along it and he hears Tao and Kris converse lowly again.

This time he listens.

“Are you sure he did not eat any?”

“I would not allow for our son to drug himself of pleasures from Lay’s garden. That is only an action for humans.”

“Well he is acting just like a human.”

“Perhaps he has lost his faerie mark for good then. We do not know the poisons the earthly world could have settled into his mind.”

“How dare you speak of that. Do you not recognize his face, his eyes? He is not human, no matter his manners.”

“Stop making this situation as negative as possible, Mo ghrá.”

Their bickering dies out when Chen looks at them with drawn eyes. If these supposedly are his parents, at least they act like a married couple. That’s a comforting thought.

Kris huffs. “Come along, then. Lay will make this all the better.”

Even before Tao answers, Kris pushes the door open with his foot braced against the bottom and his shoulder against the top. Chen doesn’t think the door could be that heavy- it looks like it’s made of a simple wood- but Kris still strains to keep it open for long. He ushers his husband and Chen inside. Once the two are in the threshold of the walls, Kris lets the door slam shut against the frame of the cottage.

A low resounding rumble resounds in the empty space. Chen flinches.

The darkness fills their sight. Chen can’t see anything, not the ground beneath him nor the two faeries by his side.

Tao hums merrily as they continue down an invisible path. It reminds Chen of the path Lu first took him in to get to the faerie realm; only now, Chen can reach out and feel the weathered walls of the home rather than nothing ness every which way.

“Lay?” Kris calls out, startling Chen again. “Lay! We request your assistance.”

Nothing, and then, shuffling. Kris grabs Chen’s shoulder and guides him forward at some unheard signal. Chen reaches his arms out in front of him to make sure he won’t run into a wall before another person takes a hold of his arm. It can’t be Tao, Chen didn’t hear him step forward with him and Kris.

“Who do you bring?”

“Our son.”

Lay. that’s who they said the healer is. The faerie inhales a sharp breath. “Come on then. Lu said you would be arriving. And I know you are not one to wait.”

Chen is led to the next room. But this one has light streaming in through the colored crystal panes that make up the ceiling. Everything is tinted in a glow from the scarce moonlight. It takes a moment for Chen’s eyes to adjust. He can make out the layout of the room just fine the longer he lets his gaze relax.

The walls are all lined with glass and crystal bottles filled with various herbs and powders. Some are stuffed full to the top while others are missing around half of their contents. Not a single one looks close to running out; there is plenty of whatever is needed. The faerie Chen believes to be Lay is lounging in a woven sling hanging from the ceiling. It’s not quite a hammock, but close to it.

When the trio makes eye contact, Lay stands up and bows to Kris and Tao. His eyes flicker to Chen with surprise, as if he didn’t truly believe Chen could have returned.

“It has been quite some time, Chen,” Lay speaks with a soft smile. His joy is not well hidden. Chen lets his guard down at the gentle words and dimple peeking out of his cheek.

“I’m sorry, but I…”

“Don’t remember anything? So I heard.”

Chen blushes. He stares down at his toes curling up against the smooth floors. Against the imperial presence of Kris and Tao matched with the wisdom that Lay is somehow exuding, Chen feels like a child. Never mind the fact that he’s in his twenties (or not? Chen is pretty sure that faeries age differently) or that he’s fully capable. Without his memories, he is only a child visiting a world too big for comprehension.

A gentle hand on the shoulder from Tao turns Chen’s attention from the floors back to Lay. The faerie is gesturing for him to settle down onto the bed resting by one of the crystal windows. He settles down. It’s softer than it appears, and Chen wants to lay back and sink into unconsciousness.

Kris comes and sits by his side while Tao tries not to pace by the door.

“Will anyone else come?” he asks. Even if he is the queen of Seelie, nervousness could still plague his actions. Chen thought the motion to be quite human.

“Not if you do not want them to,” Lay responds. “Kris, go and lock the outer doorways, would you? My queen, go with. I would like a moment to speak to Chen alone.”

His parents look apprehensive. Kris locks eyes with Lay and stares for a moment. He nods. Before Tao has the chance to object, Kris is leading him by the arm out of the room. Lay watches their figures retreat out the door until they are the only two left. And then he waits some more.

Chen wants to speak up first but can’t find his voice. Sitting in this room of only purple light with a faerie he met only minutes ago is not a situation where small talk would work. Luckily, Lay breaks the silence by standing up to inspect a shelf of colored liquids.

“You have many questions, but I cannot be the one to answer all of them. Kris and Tao are probably too frightened to tell you much. Their presence may be a distraction,” Lay murmurs. He plucks a vial of red liquid up off the bottom of the shelf. At least, Chen thinks it to be red. It’s difficult to tell in the dim lights. “I will answer as much as I can. The rest will be up to you.”

He nods at the healer. “Can I ask you things then?”

“Within reason.”

Chen chooses to start at what he thinks is a simple thing that’s been on his mind. “How long do faeries live?”

“We are ageless until killed.”

“Why couldn’t I eat the fruit in the gardens?”

“It is potent to humans and if you fell for the smell, you would have lost your senses at the first bite. You are born of faerie flesh but have fallen to the level of mortals.” Lay sits back down next to Chen with two more vials in hand. Chen squints, trying to make out their color.

“What’s with all the darkness?”

Lay clicks his tongue, looking out the window for a brief second. Chen realizes he might have hit a sensitive topic. “Faeries have what you could call abilities. My own is healing, hence my position. Our king has flight and our queen has control over time. Surely you have noticed the shifting times where a moment drags on before the next speeds past? That is Tao’s doing when emotions get the best of him. Tao keeps it at night so that one of the Unseelie’s abilities may not take power over us.”

“But in the garden, I thought it was daytime?”

Lay shakes his head. He uncaps two bottles and combines them into one. The liquids slosh together and form a thick substance akin to molasses. “It is only an illusion. The gardens are still inside the castle walls and under protection. My home here, however, is not. Hence the darkness from only the moons.”

Chen examines his fingers. He never knew just how much of his life he is missing from memory. This war should have been somewhere in his head, but he couldn’t recall.

“If there can be light, and time, healing, all that… could a faerie control ice?”

This question draws a sympathetic look from Lay. Chen isn’t sure why. But he already knows the answer to the question. “Yes. They could.”

“Who?”

Lay, to the shock of Chen, hugs him. “I cannot tell you who.” The healer squeezes his arms around Chen for the briefest of seconds before pulling back. He holds out the vials containing liquid. “Drink this one first, and this second. They will hopefully draw something out of your memory.”

He takes the bottles from Lay. Chen sniffs at the first one; he is pleasantly surprised when a sweet aroma fills his nose and not something bitter and rancid like he was expecting.

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“They might give you some cramps at first…” Lay trails off. Without a second thought, Chen gulps it down. Lay pushes his other hand up to drink the second one so that the first barely has time to leave his mouth.

When the liquids mix in his mouth and down his throat, a smoke erupts out. Chen coughs, trying to rid his stomach and lungs of the gas that was created. Looking to Lay for help, he only gets a few pats to his back in return. The longer he sits, the less the fear of dying or pain Chen feels. Rather, his head feels cleared from all the useless thoughts that overwhelmed it. Chen’s mouth cracks open so he can breathe in deeper.

Chen hardly notices when Lay grabs his shoulders and leans him back against the pillows of the bed. His eyes stare up through the crystal ceiling into the blank sky of the Seelie lands. Maybe Lay is right about those cramps.

Something is starting to build…

Like

No, it’s not the cramps

Something

Something different that hasn’t felt

it’s rising in _my chest_

_like electricity lightning like a_

_shock away here away here gone away_

_warm and high_

_I think it’s_

_flawless._

_Electric and powerful I’ve never needed anything now. Nothing is wrong. The walls are framed in tattered gold and cracked crystal. Dark and dark darker_

_the garden the garden you’re back in the garden again. never went away. from the roses your father stole you said how pretty i love them. yesyesyesyesyes. here you are, whupping the cane of cloth in your hands against the branches to drop a plasia plum Minnie wants to bite on and shaking the cold sun tears from your shut eyes._

_fine. forget it._

_wait forget what?_

_i don’t want to forget you please father no don’t leave my mind_

_just go down to the river, go down, go round, go round, go round and round the river bend see it against the night’s sky whirling fly me up there father see it from the window crystal house castle roof birds hide me hoo hoo look up at the sky where your black-birds scare me to hide deep down the fence the gate can’t hold_

_now that we’re clear_

_i wanna do this_

_listen to me dad! you aren’t paying attention! i need_

_!_

_Jongdae wants a hug!_

_see your tall height my dad my father so big and strong i see purple and red and cozy robe when you hug me. i hug Minseok too. see see?_

_daddy tells rhymes and i sleep and Minseok sleep and we sleep together and cuddle._

_i need a blanket- kinda cold now_

_really cold_

_oops!_

_lightning shocks you but not me I like it it feels good to wake me up no more sleepiness this is where i am with the tigerlion slout mr. rabbit rhinobeebuffalobadgerbear parrotpeople roundroundroundroundround swinging on the swing hold my feet daddy Minseok father love you but how many people are here?_

_court_

_one ten hundred thousand million too muchtolittle_

_doesMinseok’s father feel too muchtolittle too when he gets angry and and secret talks to kai and d.o. but no no no don’t go_

_there’s only me now_

_me you and me_

_I’m back now Mister evil queen_

_The moons still move in the sky. It doesn’t matter what time it is. A night lasts forever. Let’s get started. The garden path- I know where it leads. It’s up to the rocky mountains where the stones are waiting for you to fill the sky with iron and lighting._

_It’s not quite the color of the underground in the mines of crystal or of dead things and you know that if you slip they’ll put you in an empty matchbox with arms folded and eyes open. You know it. I know it._

_And now you hear your father’s voice._

CHEN!

_a long way away_

WHERE ARE YOU?

“I’m here.”

Later. It’s a million years later. Chen (that’s not his name, now is it?). His head hurts and he feels sick to his stomach. A cool hand rests against his forehead, and Chen laments that it’s not icy cold. But it’s still nice.

Chen knows what Lay gave him did its job as his head is spinning with a thousand thoughts, all pinging off each other. He has never felt so weird in his life. Not bad-weird exactly, but not so good-weird either. Different-world weird. Go figure. It was like Chen was someone else for a while.

Somewhere and someone else. But he never really was someone else then, like he is the same now.

His eyes crack open to the dull light of Lay’s room. It takes effort to turn his head to the side and smack his lips together. They’re so dry. Kris and Tao linger near the entrance and Chen wants them to come in to be closer. Suddenly, Chen doesn’t feel so alone.

Both of the faeries rush closer as Lay steps back. Kris’s hand takes his into his own and it’s so comforting that Chen wants to sob in relief. Something is plaguing his mind and Chen coughs a few times before trying to speak. Kris helps him to sit up in the bed, leaning back against his body as his energy is too far gone to support his own body weight.

“Tao? Kris?” Jongdae asks. His voice sounds like he swallowed sandpaper.

“We are with you,” Tao says as he kneels in close to Jongdae.

“My name. Speak my name. Please,” he begs.

Tao slaps a hand over his mouth, tears pricking at his eyes from the sheer shock of his son remembering. Kris pulls him tighter into a bear hug as the queen thanks Lay over and over.

“Jongdae. You are Jongdae.”

Kris’s voice cracks the second time he says the name. And suddenly, everything feels right. Jongdae is home where he needs to be, with parents, and a court to serve in its time of need.

But Jongdae still feels that something- _someone_ \- is missing from this scene. He pulls back from Kris with tear stained cheeks to look at Tao, and then Lay.

 _Where’s Minseok?_ His mind questions, the painful tugging at his heart no longer able to be controlled or forgotten.

“Where’s Min?”

“Who is Min?” Tao questions, his voice softer than before. He reaches over to latch onto Jongdae’s hand to ground himself as a reminder that this is all real. Even queens may fall to their own emotions.

Jongdae furrows his brow. With his memories returned, everything is a jumble. Time periods wash into each other until its one big ocean of things Jongdae thinks are important and those that aren’t. Maybe he never was supposed to mention this silver haired boy filling the cracks of all the memories. But he has to try, just to see how important he had been.

“Um… he is a faerie, I think. Silver hair, ice, my… mo ghrá…”

“The traitor’s boy,” Kris breathes out. His eyes are wide as he remembers his son’s love. “The one that tried to remain with us.”

Tao makes a little ‘ah’ as his own memory is triggered from the description. Jongdae doesn’t like the look the other three are giving him- akin to pity and disappointment and relief. Silence is not the answer he needs. He wants to ask why all these emotions, why they won’t tell me where he is, but bites his tongue.

With a wave of his hand, Kris orders Lay to leave his own room. When the healer is out and the door is shut, Tao and Kris shares a look. The queen clears his throat, starting in carefully with his words. Jongdae edges closer.

“What all did Lay explain to you?”

“Not much. Just a few questions.”

“About the court? Us?” Jongdae stares at his father who asks the direct question. “I know you two took to discussion over those matters before you took the medicine. And surely that included Tao and I.”

“I avoided asking too much about you. I know about the abilities- time and flight right? I know there’s the other bad court I think…” Jongdae says.

“Would you like to know more?” Jongdae nods at Kris’s question. He motions for Tao to begin. After all, the queen is the ruler in charge, not the king.

“You were a young faerie when the courts split. The Unseelie’s current queen… disagreed on many of our rulings. He went off on how humans could be used for more. That their existence be turned into slavery for fae and to make deals with death to secure our immortality should anything happen to our bodies. It got too far in to compromise on any morals, and a war arose. Our people split. Their queen is so manipulative that even the court fell into disarray. Some of the faeries that followed him were even a part of our highest ranked brethren.”

“Lay did mention that it must always be kept night,” Jongdae quips.

“That is right. A bender of light- much more powerful than you would imagine he could be- fights for the Unseelies.”

“Why are they so dangerous? Why couldn’t you just stamp out their resistance?”

“It is not as easy as that,” Tao says with no humor in his voice. “There is a balance between life and death on the mortal realm. The Unseelie queen began to change that, taking in hordes of the living to serve his own selfish desires. And the lost souls that could not find their way to heaven nor hell wound up under his control. The souls drew the angels of death.”

“And now most of those that betrayed us could not be considered faeries anymore. If anything, they are angels of death themselves.”

At Kris and Tao’s explanation, Jongdae is sent into thought. Could he really have missed so much in the past twenty some years? If so, why didn’t they seem more concerned over what is happening other than showing a little frustration?

“Do you know what my power was?” Jongdae finally asks hopefully. It lightens the atmosphere some. And besides, Jongdae is wanting to know if he is as strong as his parents.

But the answer he receives is disappointing. Kris only shakes his head and stands up, holding a hand out to Jongdae to help him stand. “You presented once you were of age, but never showed us. You said you would after your first mission out on your own to scout out Unseelie territory. And you never came back from that.”

“How do I use them then?”

“Only you would know that. We have no way of getting you to remember something that should be as natural as an instinct,” Tao responds with some disappointment.

Kris waves his hands, gaining the attention of both his son and Tao. “We should not be pessimistic today. Our son has returned to us! This calls for a feast of the court!”

Jongdae falls into step behind his parents as they lead him back to castle walls. As they pass through the garden, his memory sparks at how often he and Minseok played out here. It is beautiful. However, Jongdae can smell the sickly-sweet undertone to the fruits and flowers that his mind fell victim to before.

He pities the humans that are unlucky enough to encounter a faerie and their world.

The excitement of Jongdae regaining his memories spreads through the castle in the blink of an eye. Lower ranked faeries bustle out one door into the other. All of their arms are loaded down with foods and drink that have Jongdae’s mouth watering. He never has found food enticing when living in the mortal realm, but these all have him wanting to stuff his mouth.

Other faeries carry plates and decorations to lay out upon everyone else’s arrival. Jongdae’s mouth gapes at the sheer number of faeries working within the castle, leaving him to wonder how many live outside of it and how many of those will come. The nervousness of having to face all of the faeries that are apart of his court is rising like bile in the back of his throat.

He doesn’t want to speak out to Kris or Tao to tell them of his nerves. It’s a silly thing of worry anyways. This is supposed to be a celebration, not Jongdae locking himself away to a select few faeries and shunning everyone else.

Kris shouts an order to a faerie on the other side of the hall. She nods and retreats away to an unseen doorway.

“Come with me. We shall get you dressed for the event,” Tao says as he nudges Kris to continue on to the throne room. Jongdae is left to follow his dad into an open bed chamber. The dark blue of the walls contrasting with white and gold furniture is eerily familiar to Jongdae. As Tao goes into the closet to find something that will fit him, Jongdae runs his fingers over the gold embellishing on the nightstand. It’s covered in dust and coats his finger. He opens the drawer to find a notebook, a hairbrush, and a few other miscellaneous things.

“This used to be your room.”

Jongdae jumps at the sound of Tao’s voice coming from behind him.

“It’s all my favorite colors…”

Tao offers a slight smile. “You were the one to pick them out, after all. Kris and I never touched a thing after that night.”

The queen lays the clothes in his arms out on the bed for Jongdae to wear. He had been expecting something frilly and over the top like the normal stories of royalty and is relieved to find that these clothes look comfortable. The undercoat and pants are a simple black with a propel and red shirt going over the top. His pants cinch at the top, but don’t look as if they will be uncomfortably tight or form fitting.

Tao turns to face the other direction as his son gets changed. He pulls off the pants he is currently wearing and remembers that the crystal pendant is still in his pocket. He pulls it out only to put it back into the new pair. Jongdae is in the middle of trying to button up the shirt when he asks for Tao’s help. His dad comes over to help him adjust the buttons to his liking.

As that happens, Jongdae looks over to the corner of his room where a second, more temporary looking bed, is set up. It appears as if no one has slept in it for as long as his own bed.

“Whose is that?”

Tao’s eyes follow where Jongdae’s finger is pointing. “It was Xiumin’s. He lived with us- with you, really- until that day.”

“What day?”

“You have many questions,” Tao considers. “I guess it cannot be helped after all. Your memory has been fragmented. I am simply glad you remember him. But that day is one I would rather forget.”

Jongdae catches on that Tao won’t answer that one. He decides to switch his tactics instead. “Where is Xiumin then? If we were so in love, why isn’t he here?”

Tao sighs deep from within his chest. “He is with his father.”

“The Unseelie queen?” Jongdae asks to clarify, the fact he learned only today still shaky.

“Yes. But not willingly. Since he is that traitor’s son, he was expected to follow to become Unseelie. Xiumin disagreed, wanting to stay with you and avoid dealing with humans at all cost. All we know is that when you disappeared into the mortal realm, Xiumin was lost with you. honestly, we thought he would have been with you all this time.”

“Did you ever try to find him?”

Jongdae’s heart clenches when Tao nods his head. “We did. But the Unseelie faeries have gotten crueler to those they capture lurking on their territory. It is unsafe. I advise all our court to avoid them at any costs.” The look on Jongdae’s face must have given away his deeper thoughts. Of course he is formulating a plan to escape, of course he is going to get his lover back. Maybe his memory can be fully restored if he has Xiumin (no, Minseok) by his side again. “And I do not think it very wise of you to go either.”

With his formal robes on, Jongdae stands up to be next to Tao. “How soon is the feast?”

Tao must realize that Jongdae wants to drop the issue at hand with Xiumin. “I believe it to be starting soon. We should be getting going.”

Jongdae follows Tao again out to the dining room. What meets him is incredible. If Jongdae believed the fruits hanging off of the vines and branches in the garden to be enticing, then the cooked foods are simply to die for.

There is no meat on the table, but Jongdae feels more relief than disappointment. Meat never sat well with him and he avoided eating it most of the time. Not that he really ate much of anything in the mortal world, just things like peaches or sips of Sprite. Everything else made him queasy.

But this looks as if it’s tailored to fit Jongdae’s every last wish for a meal. Fruits and veggies cut into intricate designs lay without any bruising in the middle of the long table. Multiple soups all of different colors sit at each faerie’s seat, ready to be sipped after every bite. There isn’t any bread, but little bite sized pastries and cookies fill in the cracks between plates. Jongdae’s mouth fills with saliva.

Kris is already sat at the second highest position of the table with the head and the seat across from him left open for Tao and Jongdae. Once they are settled and the other faeries- Jongdae notices Lu and Lay right by his and his father’s sides- Tao allows for the feast to commence.

He first goes in for a sip of the wine. Jugs of it are laid within an arm’s length of every seat. Even though Jongdae doesn’t drink much, he finds this wine to be soothing to his taste buds and not burning at all. Jongdae finishes a glass in one go before pouring another and starting in on one type of pastry. From his side, Lu laughs merrily and pushes another type towards him.

“It has been quite a while since you have eaten, has it not?”

Jongdae furrows his brow at Lu’s question, trying to think of when the last time he ate was. “I ate before going to that forest. At least, I had a little.”

“No, no. I mean our food. Real food.” Lu shakes his head as Jongdae takes a moment to understand what he meant. “You could hardly stomach that human food, no? It is because that is the stuff of the earth. This is the food of our court.”

“It does taste much better…”

Lu claps Jongdae on the shoulder and encourages him to eat more of it. As Jongdae slows down and eats at a more respectful pace (to the relief of his father and dad), Lay and Lu engage him in a conversation about the human world. Jongdae starts to realize just how cut off they are from humanity.

“So you could touch the iron over there?”

Jongdae nods. “Of course. It’s built into everything. The buildings and cars, mostly. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t see it.”

Lu gives a ‘wow’. “But it really does not hurt you at all?”

“Not one bit.”

“We have iron down in the armory that we used to keep from human soldiers when they wandered too close to our paths,” Lay adds on. “But even then, we cannot come close to touching it without being burned. It carries too much importance for the humans to be safe for us.”

Before Jongdae can respond to Lay, Lu jumps in with another question. “What about your age? Surely you caught on that something was strange with yourself when you never aged.”

“I did age. All I remember from my childhood is being moved from family to family until I suddenly wasn’t anymore. I got hired by a company and worked there while living alone. That’s about it.”

“That was not _your_ childhood, though,” Lay mumbles with his head deep in thought. Jongdae is quite the oddity. But none of that matters in the slightest now. Not when he has been found.

The feast lingers on well into what would be the hours of the night. Jongdae keeps trying to stifle yawns behind his hand as not to be rude towards the other guests. Kris notices what he has been doing and excuses himself and Jongdae both from the feast. As queen, Tao would have to stay until the last faerie left.

Kris walks with Jongdae back to his room. The king doesn’t say much when they reach the door. He pulls Jongdae into another hug, burying his face into his son’s shoulder no matter the height difference. Jongdae reciprocates it. He grips at the layers of fabric that Kris has draped over his body.

With a brief good night once they pull apart, Jongdae is left standing alone at the doorway to his room. When Kris is fully out of sight and earshot, Jongdae opens and closes the door for good measure. The soft click is audible enough that should he be listening; the sound would reach him.

Jongdae is glad his acting at the feast worked.

He sneaks down the hallway the same way they came from and turns a corner before he can return to the dining hall. Everyone is still at the feast. Meaning, Jongdae can sneak around the castle walls and not a single other faerie may see him. Jongdae winds through the never-ending halls. There is a feeling he is lost, but at the same time, Jongdae knows that the layout of his old home is engrained somewhere in his memory.

He lets his feet take him to where he believes the armory still is. After almost fifteen minutes of dead ends and stairways with far too many stairs, Jongdae finds himself in the basement below the castle. Everything down here is no longer made of the same crystal and gold, but rather dull looking glass that resembles the sands outside.

Only three doors are accessible to him without keys. One is the entrance to what Jongdae presumes is the way to the dungeon; but it only opens to a set of stairs and has another door at the bottom. The second door is to the armory. Jongdae sighs in relief that he did end up finding it.

Right away Jongdae notices how dark the room is. It has no windows, and he has yet to see the faerie world utilize any sort of electricity. Even at the dinner, lamps were set up in the corners and agent the walls to cast their warm light over the fae.

When he runs his hand against the wall to guide himself, Jongdae accidently pushes in a stone in the wall. It sends a shock through Jongdae’s hand and he pulls back quickly. A cascade of groans from the castle walls resounds and the lights flicker on. Jongdae has no clue how it happened, or why the lights even look as if they are modern.

It’s too late to question it now.

Jongdae makes quick work of examining most of the armor resting in the room. He finds the iron armor resting in cases near the back of the room. He flicks open the case and the sharp smell of old metal hits his nose. Jongdae is slightly concerned that with his memory restored, so is his inability to touch the iron. But his hand makes contact with the smooth chest piece and not a single ounce of pain comes from it.

He makes quick work of pulling on and strapping the armor to his body. The actions come naturally, as easy as combing his hair in the morning. Jongdae wonders just how many times he pulled on similar armor. Once the chest piece is fit snug, Jongdae straps on the thigh guards and pulls on the boots. He repeats the process with the arm guards.

The last item is the heavy iron helmet. It’s face is cut in two- a left and a right side- by a gap in the metal, and a strip of eye space is left in the middle horizontally. Jongdae’s hands are starting to sweat from the leather gloves encased by small iron fittings. He forgoes putting on the helmet. Rather, he tucks it under his arm and turns to the weapons section.

Arrows and bows, axes, swords, knives, and so many other things that Jongdae can’t even find the name for line the walls. He goes right for a worn but sharp sword. It’s simple, not too complex that Jongdae will be fumbling with it should anything come his way.

A sudden thump from upstairs has Jongdae freezing. The only sound in the armory is his ragged breath. For a split second, Jongdae wonders what the consequences of his actions could be. When the noise doesn’t happen again, Jongdae slips out of the armory entrance and back into the basement hallway. He tries to rack his mind for any way out that could avoid being spotted. Jongdae is coming up blank. All of the doorways in the castle traverse through the throne room or other central areas. He surely will be caught if he attempts to use them. But… there is one more option.

The faerie paths.

Jongdae knows his skills would be rusty using them. Hell, he didn’t even know what they were when he and Lu travelled form Earth to the Seelie court by their way.

“Dammit…”

Jongdae swears under his breath. But there’s nothing else he can think of to do. He places his hand against a section of bare wall and shuts his eyes. He puts every bit of concentration into opening the door to the faerie paths under his fingertips. They start to tingle, just slightly. A jolt shocks through Jongdae’s body. He opens his eyes and expects to see the door, but it’s still only a wall.

Right as he is about to try a second time, footsteps echo down the stairs. Jongdae’s body freezes and the faerie arrives before he even has the chance to flee into the armory. His next instinct is to grab the sword at his back should he be questioned. Jongdae’s fingers tighten around the hilt at his hip.

“What are you doing down here?” Lu’s voice is easily recognized, even as a harsh whisper. Jongdae loosen his grip on the sword. “Chen!”

“I…”

“Iron.”

Lu interrupts Jongdae’s explanation with a hiss. He has reached to grab for Jongdae’s arm but found himself burned by the human metal instead. Jongdae stutters to explain himself. Lu appears close to his parents. It would be no shock if they hear about his escapades within the next few minutes and Jongdae is sentenced to death.

Or something. He still is figuring out how faeries get punished.

Jongdae is quiet as Lu stares him in the eyes. “You are going to find Xiumin, are you not?”

His face pales as Lu gets it right. “How did you…?”

“Unimportant. But you must be stupid or madly in love to think marching up to the Unseelies will even get you anywhere close to finding Min.”

“I don’t care.”

“We shall all be sad if you get yourself killed.”

“Throw me a funeral worthy of the gods then.”

Jongdae doesn’t have time for this. He pushes past Lu to get to the wall and try to access the paths again. He needs to this time without fail. But the moment he starts, Lu’s sigh interrupts his concentration.

“If you want to open the paths, you cannot think about it so much.” Lu nudges Jongdae to the side and puts his hand against the stone. With his touch the path cracks open and the pitch black entices Jongdae to step forward. “Just go. I will come up with an excuse to cover your naivety.”

“Why?”

Lu shrugs. “Xiumin was my best friend. It has been quite lonely without him.”

That’s all that Lu offers as explanation. He nudges Jongdae forward into the faerie paths. Before shutting the door, he speaks up. “To get out where you want to be, just think of it. Think of the emotions it gives you and of the people you need to see. Don’t try to force yourself to come to an exact location. You will end up being utterly lost if you do.”

He shuts the path.

Jongdae is left surrounded by darkness in every way. He doesn’t move as Lu’s words process in his mind. Jongdae tries walking forward to see if any emotions or feelings come to him. One does, but it’s the feeling that that decision was wrong. Jongdae smiles to himself at the wrong choice and spins on heel. This way feels much better.

A few steps forward, and Jongdae can tell this way is correct. He turns as his body wishes and goes where his feet take him. The intuition brings him to a place like any other. Black, solid, foreboding. Jongdae reaches up and finds an invisible door handle at the height of about his elbow. He begins to turn it.

The ugly sense of dread fills his stomach. But Jongdae can’t stop, not when he knows this is where he needs to be. He throws the door open and stumbles the rest of the way out so he doesn’t have to suffer through the suspense anymore.

It’s early dusk. The suns are just beginning to fall. Jongdae peers around the mossy walls of the cave to see if there’s anything to identify his location. To his left is a small waterfall pouring down the rocky edges of the cave into a murky lake below. A small crack in the ceiling lets the last remaining light filter in so Jongdae doesn’t have to squint. The sight reminds him to pull on the helmet so his face cannot be seen. He crosses the damp rocks laid out in front of him to the far edge of the cave. Up its side are uneven stones thrown down to mimic steps.

Jongdae scales the step stairs until his head peeks out of the cave’s hold. He rolls out onto the dry grassland surrounding the endless hole. No matter which way he looks, all that Jongdae comes up with is dead grassland and rocky soil. one or two dead looking trees stick up out of the horizon. Nothing like the Unseelie territories he created in his head while in the Seelie lands.

He wanders around for hours. His feet ache, but Jongdae knows he can’t stop until he finds _something_. But so far, the only thing that he’s even come across are a set of lakes filled with the same inky black water as in the Seelie lands. Jongdae crosses right through after testing the depth; it would take much too long to pass around.

The night takes over slowly. Jongdae figures he might as well find something to light his path. He approaches one of the scarce trees and breaks off a weighted branch. It’s wood is much heavier than it appears and Jongdae has to break off another smaller piece so he can carry it. Jongdae tries to light the end of the stick by rubbing two others together and transferring that flame but is struggling.

It takes try after try before Jongdae is given a smoldering mess. But it’s enough. He wraps a wad of dried grass around the end of the torch. It lights in a haze of yellow and orange. The smoke gets in Jongdae’s throat and lungs; he coughs around the metal of his helmet and spittle travels down his chin.

Jongdae continues forward, even as the sky turns to black and the only light is by the torch in his hand. Not a single other sound fills the dead air, minus the sporadic sound of beating wings. Jongdae chalks it up to his own mind playing tricks on him.

He pauses to take a small break. Just enough to catch his breath.

**“Prince, it is good to see you again. How long has it been? Would you even know?”**

Jongdae finds no one in the darkness. He holds out the torch, still burning at one end, as his body holding back a shiver. He thought this would be all abandoned territory. Not even the Unseelies seemed to traverse out this far in their own lands. “Show yourself.”

**“How I have missed you.”**

“I don’t know you.”

But this voice is familiar. So familiar. Like it’s rising from a long-forgotten dream of days that are better off gone to the sands of time, But unlike the voices of his fathers’, it isn’t halcyon memories that this voice invokes. It draws up Jongdae’s spine and settles in cold shivers below his skin.

**“After all these years, still you deny me? Perhaps your time away was not long enough.”**

A flash of a face to his left has Jongdae thrusting the burning torch in that direction. But it’s only darkness again. **“I am tired of this game you play, Prince.”**

Jongdae steps in a slow circle to examine everything around him. Nothing but the vast field of dying plants fill the horizon. Until he pauses, hearing a cold breath right behind his head.

 **“Why do you fear me? Speak to me- that is all I am asking you for.”** The faerie of this voice moves in closer and Jongdae is confused at this encounter. Should he really know who this is? He couldn’t remember his own fathers when the door first opened so perhaps this is his brother, his friend. But maybe this faerie is more than that. **“I can deliver you the métier you are lacking. I know how to fill the emptiness you keep hidden from the rest of the world. I know plenty about it. You need not remain hollow anymore.”**

_Jongdae doesn’t want his heart to be empty._

**“But you need to let me in.”**

_It does not matter if they intrude…_

**_“_ ** **Just take this off…”**

_He can remove his armor. The hands wrapping themselves around his face are already the helping to slip the helmet off._

**“…before you suffocate.”**

Jongdae unsheathes his sword in one movement, aiming the bade at where his back had once been. The fogginess of his mind falling victim to the laced words fades away. Jongdae tightens his hand around the hilt of the sword. The carvings of his fathers’ court give him some semblance of relief. Before he sees the faerie taunting his mind, he hears the voice again.

**“Look at you, letting your iron tomb corrode away at your feeble bones. You are hiding from the truth of your actions. Do you see what you have done? You have blocked out the fall of rain, the heat of the suns, the hands of your lover. You shut it all out in return… for what? Silence? How pitiful. What has this exile given you? Do you feel anything? Joy? Sorrow?”**

Jongdae bristles. “What would you know of human sorrow?” A faerie living under the protection of their own court certainly has not experienced the same strife that Jongdae suffered through alongside the humans in their world. In his world. No matter where his blood is traced, he does not belong here.

He receives no answer. Jongdae’s memory begins to fill itself in the more he speaks to this faerie. His lips move on their own accord.

“You, who come from where the winds take their first breath, from beyond the tide the oceans cry? Untouched by mortal death. Untouched by mortal time.” As Jongdae holds out his torch one final time, he sees the face of his past. His skin all but shines with the blessings of a thousand deities under the firelight. Blond hair falls down over eyes that appear soft and caring. His bare feet walk over the dried ground. With each step, the dirt turns muddy and wet. Jongdae knows. He knows this faerie. But the faerie doesn’t know Jongdae, not this Jongdae who has traversed lands of mortals. Perhaps he remembers the Jongdae that used to be. “By the injustice of man, never have you known broken faith.”

**“You are right. My kingdom has never bent under forces- neither evil nor good. For centuries, I have wandered the shores of mortals in secret, longing for things I will never know. Even under Seelie’s hand I wished for more. My sorrow is different than yours.”**

Jongdae readies himself to disagree, but the other faerie beats him to it. The words fall from frustrated mouth.

**“I am wrapped in dreams of terror. I know what pain is yet to come to our world. The false kings of the worlds grow old and their bones feeble. Their crowns turn to bartering chips for money; their children abandoned to the dealers of vice.”**

“You are ruler of Unseelie faerie.” Jongdae knows this now. As much as he knows his father’s warmth and the hands of the silver haired faerie, he knows this faerie’s status.

**“And you are destined to lead your own court. Titles are trivial, my Prince.”**

The being standing before him is none other than the Faerie Queen himself.

A Queen of an entire court- the most powerful type of ruler and Jongdae stands tall in his presence. To be honest, Jongdae is more surprised at the fact he hasn’t tried anything to kill him yet. At least, nothing that he knows of.

“How do you even know who I am? That I returned from Earth?”

**“The song of the sea is neither quiet nor calm. My waters told me, only to be tainted by the lingering touch of mortals against your skin.”**

“Why even care for the things mortals do?”

 **“Because what has ever been real without their bearing witness? And you, Prince, are of faerie’s blood. Not of human’s. If I should not care for mortals’ doings, then you shall not either. Remember you who belong to.”** The queen looks disappointed in Jongdae. Jongdae himself feels regret at the time lost to offices and motorcycles and dirty city skylines.

**“But our fates are tied in more ways than you can understand with those same lowly mortals.”**

“How so? If they are so low, why build an empire upon them?”

 **“They are the only ones who can dream. The grounds you walk upon in the land of the fae, the black oceans and blue forests are not of our own doing. Should they imagine it, it shall come to life here.”** He pauses. **“Think what you will of me. But I am not your enemy**.”

He reaches a hand out to Jongdae. Jongdae’s hands still clutch his sword in front of his body as if that would be enough to stop the queen of Unseelie fae. But the queen nudges his hand forward a second time. Jongdae stares at the offering before stabbing his sword into the dirt beneath his feet. He opens his palm and a necklace unravels into his hand. As the queen’s hand retreats, Jongdae catches flashes of the black tattoos of the Unseelie court.

He knew that he wandered into the Unseelie territory, but now Jongdae wonders if he’ll be able to escape.

Jongdae glances down to the necklace. Jongdae’s heart freezes the very moment he sees the delicate intertwinings of the twine and beads. He rifles through his own pockets underneath the layers of iron until he can find the crystalline star that fits into an empty bracket.

It’s _his_ necklace.

The faerie with the silver hair. It’s _his_.

“How did you get this? What’s happened to him?”

The Unseelie queen looks down at his own bare feet before directing his stare to the heavens above. These is no light, no stars. Jongdae closes his eyes and when he blinks, their light fills the sky. He suppresses a sound beneath his iron mask. Memories of a dream all but forgotten creep into Jongdae’s thoughts.

What love he felt in that time.

 **“You had wandered the mortal realm too long. I am sure the memories of your faerie life all but faded to dust while you were there.”** The face of pity flashes over his face as he speaks to Jongdae. His hand reaches for Jongdae, brushing along the expanse of his shoulder, the iron leaving black traces on the queen’s fingertips. Jongdae shivers. His mind fills with images of a time he cannot recall the closer the queen gets.

**“You were lost, dropped down into decay flesh. And Death came for you.”**

_The angels. The angels of death are coming for him._

_Jongdae is collapsed beneath an old hawthorn tree. The veil between here and the mortal realm is too close; one wrong move and he’ll fall in. His powers are too weak to bring himself back to his home court if he ends up there._

_Black wings beat above his head. Jongdae shuts his eyes, trying to scoot back further. But his lover is standing in front of him, his white robes rising in against the wind as the temperature of the air drops. Jongdae lets out a cough, blood coating the inside shell of his war helmet. His fathers had gifted it to him before he left on his first mission alone._

_And yet, it had helped little._

_Not when he was ambushed by his own kind._

_The angel is one of the faeries he recongizes that followed Suho to form the Unseelies. A fire fae, one of the strongest that their court trained. But Jongdae doesn’t know his name, doesn’t know any of their names. As they don’t know his nor his lover’s._

_Minseok spreads his arms out. Against the forest’s lay of white barren trees and green spider grass, he appears to be a single snow crystal. The angel lunges for Jongdae’s unmoving bloodied body._

_“_ **You are wrong about one thing, Prince. We are no strangers to death. We know it well, embracing it with our own bone and blood. But when it turns on its master and comes for us, we keep it at bay with dances.”**

_Jongdae’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Minseok take the first step forward. A challenge for Jongdae’s life. And he wasn’t going to let an Unseelie win. The angel stretches his arms out wide against the sky darkened as a bruise with smoke. Feathers as black as ash shift in the heavy wind that threatens to suck his breath from his lungs._

**“And that is what he did. He danced.”**

_Minseok danced. The angel danced as well, but it was wrong. Jongdae couldn’t put his finger on it. The tempo is wrong. The steps out of sync. There was no way the Unseelie faerie would overcome his lover._

**“He danced with death. He danced with time. Fighting for you. He was not afraid against the shifting shadows. My son was impassable.”**

_Jongdae can’t remember the last time he felt this same rush of love for Minseok. It has been centuries since they’ve bonded and that love hasn’t faded._

_The dance gets more dangerous. The Unseelie fae stretches his head towards the sky, calling out until the fires descend down. Even through the helmet Jongdae feels the flames licking at his skin. Minseok takes it with ease. He steps in every same direction that the other faerie does, blocking him from access to Jongdae._

**“I tried to overpower him in darkness. But he kept dancing, pleading, to spare your life.”**

_Jongdae can feel his spirit slipping down. Further and further until his hand can graze the border between this world and the human’s. His fear rises. Minseok would be trapped here alone, with no one to rescue him from the clutches of Suho. His father. So unlike Yifan and Zitao with their embraces and dreams as far reaching as the heavens themselves._

_He pulls up some strength from deep within his aching bones. The action brings blood to his lips. Jongdae props one arm against the base of the hawthorn tree and the other against the ground. The weight of the armor on his body is all that’s keeping him from going to Minseok. His injuries are all but forgotten. But they had succeeded in holding the angel of death at bay._

_A hand from behind pulls Jongdae back._

_He panics. When he turns to see who it is, the hands move to his head and keep him staring forward. Water fills his lungs from an unknown source. And he is drowning- down, down into the black._

_Jongdae is pushed through into the mortal realm._

_And it is more painful than he could imagine._

“You… you were…”

**“My son won.”**

_(Minseok delivers a single strike of ice, straight to the heart of the angel of death. His wings give out; his body crashes to the forest floor in an unceremonious heap.)_

**“Yet, you did not return to him. For days. For years.”**

Jongdae snaps back present. The queen’s- _no, Suho’s-_ hand brushes the metal above his cheek. He stumbles back at the gesture. Disgust coats his face.

**“And now you have.”**

“What do you want from me?”

Suho wraps an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders, moving himself behind him and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “ **I want you to trust me. I know why you are here. I know who you are looking for.”**

Jongdae freezes. His curiosity is piqued in what Suho has to offer. **“Even though the sparks of power drained from your veins _,_ I can give you back the lightning. I can help you restore what was lost long ago.”**

He wants to give in. He wants to restore what was taken from him. Jongdae remembers the rush of electricity coursing through his body. The thrill of commandeering the skies of a storm is still engrained in his mind. He turns to the faerie queen. Jongdae doesn’t flinch when Suho reaches to remove his helmet.

Now that his eyes see Suho without the interference of the helmet, he can see just how truly ethereal the queen is. His face shows no signs of age, but his eyes speak of wisdom and cunning only obtained through centuries of life. Jongdae shrinks against the steady gaze of his elder while at the same time wanting to give him his whole life.

Suho tosses the helmet to the side. It crunches the dry grass. Jongdae waits for Suho to continue speaking of what he so desperately desires. Of power, of lovers.

 **“I taught you to dream like the humans. You have that ability. I want you to dream again. A dream for the end of days.”** Suho brushes a piece of hair away from Jongdae’s eyes. He feels like he can’t move, completely entranced by Suho’s promises and words. **“Let me take you to my court. My son shall be waiting for you. There is much you need to know.”**

“Has he finally joined you?” Jongdae wonders aloud. If his memory serves him correctly, Minseok vehemently refused the morals Suho pushed onto his own child.

Suho’s face scrunches as he thinks of his own son and the troubles he has brought upon the court. Jongdae knows as much as Luhan hinted at- nothing more. **“That boy has been punished for his crimes against his Queen.”**

He is silent as he ponders his options. There are not many that are open to him now. “If I do as you say, what will I find?” Jongdae asks, his voice speaking low. Suho ponders this, his voice cocking as he runs a hand down Jongdae’s shoulder.

**“What would you hope to find?”**

Jongdae’s hand tightens around Minseok’s bracelet. How long ago he must have disappeared. And now he must rescue his own rescuer. “You know his name. You are his father, after all, Suho. Show me the way.”


End file.
